or cry had been noticed. However,
Madame Beldi angrily left her partner, and when Banfy stammered out an
apology, indicated to him that he should stay at a distance.

This kiss was to cost Banfy dear one of these days. Nobody had noticed
it except the man whom it most concerned,--the husband. Beldi's eye
had seen it. Let not anybody think that a husband who loves is not
jealous. Even if he acts as if he had not seen, had not heard, he sees
and hears and notices everything. He had indeed seen Banfy kiss his
wife, although he acted as if he did not notice the confusion of his
wife who, all excited, sought her husband. He took her hand and led
her from the hall. Once outside he bade her make ready for a journey.
"Where are we going?" asked his wife, quivering with excitement.

"Home to Bodola."

Of all the guests Dionysius Banfy alone noticed that two had vanished
from the hall.

CHAPTER V

CASTLE BODOLA

In a part of the country of upper Weissenburg, as soon as you have
left the Pass of Boza or made a detour of the ravine in the footpath
around the mountain heights, you catch sight of the valley of the
Tatrang. On all sides are low mountains covered with light fog, and in
the background the sky-piercing heights of the foothills of Capri,
bright in the early autumnal snow. In the fog-wrapped valley are four
or five hamlets with whitewashed houses, from which the smoke arises
amid the green fruit trees. The little stream of Tatrang winds clear
as crystal between the quiet villages, forming here and there
waterfalls with snowy mist. The clouds hang so low over the valley as
to shut out with their golden veil first one object and then another
from the observer on the mountain-height. There is Hosszufalu with its
long street; and the church of Trajzonfalu reflects the sunbeams from
its painted metal roof. Tatrang is right on the bank of the stream, at
this point crossed by a long wooden bridge; far in the distance appear
dark and misty the walls of Kronstadt and the outline of the citadel,
at that time still unharmed. Farther down in the valley are the
scattered dwellings of the little village of Bodola, its church high
on a hill; opposite the village stands a small castle with broad
towers and black bastions with battlements; the western bastion is
built on a steep rock. But it is only from afar that the castle looks
gloomy; as you draw nearer you see that what appeared a dark green
growth on the bastion is a